A rocket-propelled grenade had fired but missed, and both bombs had failed to go off. Blurred vehicles fled past in the thickening mist. In all, they contrived to miss two American tanks, a security vehicle ("Oops!") and a police ranger. They had mixed up the remote controls: "Don't panic!" Sensing this could go on for some time, Quraishi joined the men in charge of detonating the bombs. You are sitting there on cotton cushions. "Oh, no! Oh God!" "You idiot! This is how you do everything." HQ were, as ever, censorious: "You should wake up a bit." The poor bloody infantry were, as ever, resentful: "We were awake. (Their allies, the Taliban, who come from the warm south, decamp in the winter.) There was a sudden flurry of recriminations.
They planted two bombs under cover of darkness, then waited for the phone call alerting them to the arrival of an American tank. Quraishi belongs to the mongoose tribe, whose motto is: "Run and find out." He was into everything, in spite of mild rebukes: "These things should not be filmed." Hearing that a group were leaving to plant bombs on the main road from Kunduz to Baghlan ("We can destroy a big American tank with a $50 bomb"), he joined them. We send them to hell." The scarf-muffled voice was young, and so were the eyes. "The things we make, even American technology cannot work out.
They are candid, comradely and deeply devout. Rural north Afghanistan is controlled by an extreme Islamic faction, Hezbi Islami, who try to cut the artery serving Nato forces in the south by planting roadside bombs (those infamous IEDs). Which, being translated, means he was lucky to get out with his head on his shoulders.
A remarkable reporter, Najibullah Quraishi, who can probably add another award to his collection, went Behind Enemy Lines (Dispatches, Channel 4). I t's nice to know that even the mujahideen have their Dad's Army moments.